To The Place Where Wishes Go
by Apalapucian
Summary: 1977, the Pettigrews' lakehouse – "How do you feel about a summer with the Marauders?"
1. Beginning

**AN: **Heya. So this is going to be an _experiment. _Basically, it's a collection of drabbles with words varying from 500 to over 2,000 – depending on the kind of snippet/scene I'd come up with for the word prompt – but it will be written as a short series of sorts. Nothing very grand. There are thirty word prompts, so there will (hopefully) be thirty chapters, with some chapters possibly written in styles independent from the others. I tried to locate the source of this 30-day writing challenge (_beginning_, _accusation_, _restless_, and _snowflake_ being the first four words?), but it appears to be on a lot of sites, so I don't know. Anyhow, the challenge isn't mine, and credit is where credit's due. This first one is short, so I'll go right on posting the next chapter not long after it.

Hope you like it, and as always, it's always fun to know what you think!

**One: Beginning**

_"How do you feel about a summer with the Marauders?"_

The four boys sat on the dormitory floor in a circle, their eyes narrowed and travelling fleetingly from one to the other. Sirius Black looked like he was suppressing a smile, and Remus Lupin, noticing, cocked an eyebrow at him. James Potter counted to three, and the four simultaneously opened their hands, held out in front of them so all of them could see. Peter groaned, his palm revealing that he had unwittingly picked the shortest strip of paper they had torn from James' class schedule. The losing Marauder threw his head back against his bed in defeat.

Sirius's grin broke out at last. "The Pettigrews' lake house then," he announced, thrilled. He turned to James. "Looks like the manor's getting a break this year."

* * *

"What's wrong?"

Lily looked up, startled; she had been so engrossed with the letter in her hands that she hadn't heard Mary enter the dormitory. The petite Gryffindor brunette, who must have noticed the look on Lily's face upon her entrance, paused briefly to drop her things on her bed before taking a seat beside Lily.

"What's up?" Mary asked once more, when the redhead merely continued to look flustered in silence.

"Petunia's still mad."

"Oh, about that thing last Easter?"

Lily sighed. "Yes... you know I didn't mean to do that, right?"

The other snorted. "What, rip Bernie's trousers and expose an unnecessarily plenty amount of just the most _un_manly manly bits in history ever?"

Lily tried to scowl, she really did, but the memory of the previous family get-together with her sister's boyfriend, as much as it had greatly distressed her at the time, never failed to make her laugh.

"_Vernon_," she corrected Mary, grinning, "and I really didn't do it on purpose! I got mad. It just happened."

"Well, he did call you 'uneducated' and 'a bit unbalanced'," countered Mary, drawing aerial quotation marks, "so I don't think I'd mind at all even if you did."

Lily smiled and then bit her lip as a thought occurred to her. "Can I stay over at your place this summer? I know Jeanne's crashing, too, but—just for a few weeks, I promise." She held the letter up and smiled sadly. "Someone back home just implicitly expressed her displeasure of my presence."

Mary frowned. "I swear to Merlin, I'm shoving a pie on your sister's face first chance I get... Also, I won't be staying at home this year."

"Oh." Trying not to show her dismay, Lily nodded. "That's okay. I'll just—"

"You can still be with me, though," Mary hurriedly said. She paused, a sly grin slowly gracing her features. "Actually, yes, I think that's a fantastic idea. You should be with us this summer."

"Really?" said Lily, brightening up. "Oh, Mary, you're a life saver."

Mary chuckled. "Yes. You're in charge of keeping Jeanne away from stray, clueless bachelors, though."

"Still adamant on Liam's immediate replacement then?"

"She says she isn't damn well about to lose on the race to moving on, yeah."

"Best of luck to her."

"Yeah—so, now that you're with us, you get the job of keeping her scary paws off unsuspecting blokes."

"You got it. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually."

"I'm all ears, Macdonald."

Mary took her time just looking at Lily, her lips gradually upturning in evident amusement. Lily returned this with a puzzled look, noticing how her friend could barely succeed at staying still in what she could only identify as excitement. And then, just when she was about to point this out to her, Mary spoke.

"How do you feel about a summer with the Marauders?"

There was a beat—to Lily, a second that strangely felt like an eternity as the words aligned themselves to coherence; and to Mary, an entertainingly gradual shift in Lily's expression—and then:

"_What?_"


	2. Accusation

**AN:** Big thanks to Morgan for the inspiration, Mary for editing the drafts and making it loads better, and Marra for never tiring to nag me about writing anything with more than three chapters in it. Again, this project will only be a series of brief but interrelated scenes, as I wouldn't want to shock myself with a full-blown multichapter fic and end up not finishing it. I have fun writing it, though, so I hope you have as much fun reading them, too. :)

**Two: Accusation**

_"To home."_

"Alright, I've noticed," James announced as he bounded up the stairs. "Very funny." He reached the second landing, pausing in front of Lily's door. "You're a genius," he said, turning the knob. "Now be a dear and g—_oh_."

Now how on earth could he have possibly known she would be in naught but a scant towel behind the blasted door? _Really_?

"Nice slippers...?" He grappled for something else to say, even though he knew all too well that it was a lost cause. Still, he couldn't help but keep on looking, and he knew it was only a matter of time before—

Lily hurled at him the closest thing she could reach, a thick, hard-bound book from a pile on a nearby table, and he barely dodged it as he hurried to back out of the room. He closed the door behind him with a resounding click.

"What the _hell, _Potter?" Lily was yelling a millisecond later.

A chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. His fingers still gripped the knob behind him, and he craned his neck towards the door. "Not sorry, Evans," he called back. "Would do you good to learn locking the door next time you're... indecent."

She could be heard rummaging around the room as she got dressed (possibly), grumbling, too, by the sound of objects clattering, as if her muffled surly tones didn't convey her displeasure enough. "Why are you even here? What do you want?"

That brought up his initial dilemma. "I need my badge back."

"Your _what_ back?"

He rolled his eyes. "My _badge_. Quidditch. Says 'Captain'. Relatively small. Shiny—I'd say that's why you nicked it, by the way, because it's gold and shiny and all, except I specifically remember you saying—"

The door abruptly opened. He caught himself just in time before he stumbled back and crashed on Lily—who was glowering, but now thankfully(?) properly clothed. Her hair framed her face in wet, wiry strands, which were an even deeper red than usual. "Excuse me?" she demanded.

The sight of her like this... damnit. It bloody felt like his insides had either disappeared or were having a riot, but he managed to push it down and secure it with the obligatory air of defiance. "You have finally and successfully avenged yourself, Lily Evans." He held out his hand. "Now give it back."

Lily stepped forward, so close he actually had a bit of trouble staying his ground. Not out of fear, of course, never that—he just wasn't sure if he would be able to bottle up the urge to kiss her in this proximity. It would be unacceptable, he thought, as that would invalidate his promise to try to sodding get over her once and for all;, to forget his feelings for such an absurd, redheaded _menace... _who now smelled like summer and looked ridiculously cute in her pajama shorts and baggy _Puddlemere United_ t-shirt. He had one just like that, he thought absentmindedly. Where did she even get hers?

Her green eyes narrowed, both ominous and disbelieving. "Are you saying I stole your stupid _trinket_? You're actually _accusing _me?"

"As I was saying," he retorted, unfazed, "I do remember you saying you were going to _make me pay someday _for keeping _your _stupid trinket for a week two years ago. I thought I left mine back home tonight when I was unpacking, but then your terrifying warning resurfaced and here we are."

"Terrifying," she echoed him flatly.

"Haunted me in my sleep every night," he returned without a beat.

She merely stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Godric, she was so difficult. "Spare me the theatrics and hand it over, Evans."

"Okay, first of all, why do you even _need _it?" she asked him, incredulous. "It's a _Quidditch Captain badge_. It's summer break_, _we're miles away from Hogwarts, and Black would have to be way more bonkers than I thought if he lets you pin your badge when you play one-on-one in your estate courtyard or something."

"Oi, you—"

"_Second of all,_" she cut him off, raising her voice to drown his out._ "_I didn't take it! Godric knows why you still remember things _centuries_ past, Potter, but I don't make it a point to plot things against you before I sleep, and I didn't take your stupid badge."

James glared at her. "I don't believe you."

"Again, what did you even bring it here for?"

Honestly, he had only brought it here by accident.

He hadn't technically packed for the lake house. All their previous summers had been spent at _his _place, for Merlin's sake, and he didn't feel like abandoning his familiarity with being the host yet, so he hauled his trunk all the way here without sorting through his things. That meant heedlessly bringing along a few text books, his Quidditch gear, and plenty more of unnecessary stuff. He later realized he might lose something during his stay here if he didn't do something about that, so he decided to send the excess luggage back to the manor. He was sorting through it when he noticed the missing badge.

He realized that it was all such a mouthful to explain, though, so he just answered her with, "The local witches love it."

"I'm not a local witch."

"No, you're not," he agreed. "You're a prat who clearly has to work on her shenanigans, because this prank got old enough to prank people ages ago."

The confused look she continued to direct at him was utterly convincing, however, and when he refused to back down she threw her hands in the air in mock surrender. "You're impossible."

She turned to leave.

"Evans!"

"_What, _Potter?"

"Will you quit it and just give it to me?" Now she'd reduced him to yelling. Bloody hell.

"I don't have _anything _to turn in!"

"You and I both know you do."

"Go away. You're giving me a headache."

"I'm not, but I'd certainly be giving you something worse if I don't get it back _now._"

"I can't help you, sorry."

"_Lily._"

"James!"

"Give it up!"

"You're insane! I don't have it!"

* * *

"Will someone go and shut them up, please?" Jeanne announced downstairs as she walked into the living room. Remus and Sirius sat on the floor in the middle of a wizard's chess match while Mary, perched on the couch, idly flipped through a muggle magazine. "Where's Peter?" she then asked, noticing the Marauder's absence.

"Firewhiskey duty," said Mary, her eyes glued to the magazine as she turned a page.

"Got the shortest strip again?" asked Jeanne.

Sirius snorted.

"I swear, you lot somehow make sure he loses every time."

"If this jeopardizes my advances..." James was arguing from upstairs.

"I seriously couldn't care less about your _advances,_ Potter..."

"So how about we draw strips for who breaks our favorite couple apart?" Jeanne opened up once more, plopping down beside Mary as James and Lily continued to bicker loudly upstairs.

"Are you kidding me?" said Sirius, looking up at Jeanne. He was grinning. "That_, _mate, is the sound of _home._"

Jeanne's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Makes you want to murder them at first," Remus muttered distractedly, his gaze sweeping through the board before him. "But eventually you get used to it. And _then_ the silence would drive you mad."

"So you're saying you approve of this?"

"Yes," said Sirius.

"In a way," was Remus's simultaneous answer. He made his move as Sirius, who looked positively chuffed, leaned against Mary's legs.

"Are _you_ with them on this?" Jeanne asked Mary.

Mary cocked her head to one side as she thought about it. "Well... it _was _getting disturbing, the way they've gotten so quiet and formal to each other lately."

Jeanne regarded them all in baffled silence for a moment before she shook her head. Resigned, she rose to her feet and left the group to their own devices. Mary thought she heard her mumbling something about spending the summer with a bunch of mental people.

Peter barged in a few minutes later—Lily and James still hadn't come to a resolution, as was only expected—and soon the Gryffindors in the living room were passing a bottle of firewhiskey among them.

Remus had just won the chess game and Jeanne had just called her 'good night' out from her room when Peter fished something out of his pocket and held it up against the lamplight. It glittered, drawing all Gryffindors' eyes upon it. "What do we do with this?" Peter asked. He tossed the badge to Sirius, who caught it with his free hand.

Mary laughed. "I knew it was bound to be you," she said, hitting Sirius lightly on the arm.

"Actually," began Sirius, downing a few gulps from the bottle before handing it to Remus, "it was Moony."

The Marauder in question took the badge from Sirius, pocketed it, and smirked. "To home," he cheered amidst the agitated voices still wafting in through the lake house's halls, holding up the bottle briefly before taking a generous swig.


	3. Restless

**AN:** I'm thinking of updating on Fridays. Philippine Fridays, that is. I'll try my best not to take very long in between. Not _every_ Friday, though – Merlin, I don't want to make promises I can't keep – just _on_ Fridays. That makes sense, right? Does it? Hahah _anyway, _thank you thank you to _Dancer6HOA_, _LeahLumos_, _theinfalliblesnapsevans_ and the anonymous reviewer who took time to comment. Also to everyone who followed and favorited! It means the world x

**Three: Restless**

_"You're smitten with the nutter."_

_**Morning**_

What little portion of the horizon Lily could see through the first floor window was just starting to light up with the first rays of the morning. She sat up, groggy and squinty-eyed, her hair a tousled mess of red, her blanket falling off her shoulders, and—

No, hang on. She didn't have a blanket last night. She especially remembered curling in against the base of the couch for warmth. Not that she'd needed much of it for the night wasn't particularly drafty, but it had been comfortable to have something heating her up anyway.

She picked the soft fabric off the floor and looked around, wondering who among her house mates would get a breakfast in bed courtesy of her today... or a breakfast _not_ in bed, as everyone seemed to have taken sleeping refuge on scattered spots in the living room and the kitchen.

She chuckled under her breath as she rose up from the floor.

* * *

**_The night before_**

_There were deep voices talking, and the solemn tone of the conversation was a contrast to the cacophonous medley of heated row and merriment that had earlier lulled Jeanne to sleep. She felt nervous at first, easily unnerved in her disoriented state, but then she recognized it later as only Sirius and James. Unable to fall back asleep, she decided to see what the matter was._

_She padded the carpeted floors as soundlessly as she could when she realized that the others had finally fallen asleep—all in the living room, too, by the looks of it. James and Sirius were in the kitchen, the former hunched over on the counter top and his best mate on one of the dining chairs. They were drinking the last of the magically refilling bottles. They didn't sound as inebriated as she could recall the others did. James's excuse, Jeanne supposed, was that he and Lily had gone down to join the group later into the night, busy as they were in their little tiff about... the badge, was it?_

_She didn't know about Sirius, though. Given the record, shouldn't he be the one conked out the most right now? Maybe he just really managed not to slur..._

_"What if you're misunderstanding it?" he was asking James. "What if she's acting like that because—"_

_"She's _not_," argued James. "Lily is..."_

_Jeanne concluded then that she ought to know better than to interrupt and barge in now, but she couldn't find it in herself to turn away. She stood in the shadows, conflicted._

_"She's _Lily_," James finished. "Bloody Evans, mate. Unpredictable. Sometimes I feel like I've stuck around long enough to say I _get _her, but no. She's just..."_

_"One of a kind?" Sirius supplied. There was a pause, and then— "Which is why you should quit _this _rubbish, Prongs. Not _her_."_

_"I don't know." He laughed, and even though Jeanne couldn't see him, she could hear the absence of humor in it. "It's not like we're all dead certain I'm actually even able of quitting her, if I ever do try."_

_"You're not."_

_"I'm feeling the encouragement, Padfoot. I'm definitely drowning in your full support over here."_

_"You're still not—_but _we'll be here whatever you decide to do."_

_(Another brief stretch of silence.) "Thanks."_

_Not much was said after that, and Jeanne found her way back to her room—but not back to slumber. She just lay there thinking about what she'd heard, and about Liam Harwich, damnit, and about, perhaps most of all, the painstakingly mundane but still seemingly insurmountable concept that was _moving the hell on._ Eventually even the distinct chatter died down, and then she was stuck with nothing for company but her thoughts and the sound of what could otherwise have been a serene, ordinary summer night in a close friend's lakehouse._

_Later, she didn't notice that she was already in a stupor, lost in her reverie, until she jumped at the small but unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing._

_She deliberated over it for a second, but she had realized something long before the sound shook her consciousness back awake, and she had pretty much made her mind up about it._

_She left her bed once more to follow whoever just got out. It didn't matter who between the boys turned out to have a more troubled mind tonight—Jeanne needed to talk to either of them (separately) anyway._

* * *

Lily was making coffee when Jeanne walked into the kitchen, stretching and yawning.

"Morning," the blonde greeted, pulling her hair up in a ponytail.

Someone groaned from the dining area before Lily could say anything—Sirius was slumped on one of the chairs. "Keep it down," he complained in a garbled voice.

Lily paid him no heed. "Good morning, Marchbanks. Slept well?"

"Mhmm." Jeanne joined Lily on the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "You?"

"Alright... Someone's been lovely last night and made sure I wasn't cold."

Jeanne took a sip off her mug before smiling brightly at her. "I knew you hated sleeping without a blanket."

"Oh, it was you!" chirped Lily. She left their station just long enough to procure a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, prepared by herself a few minutes earlier. She slid the meal towards Jeanne and grinned. "_Thank you_, Jeanne Marchbanks, and a fabulous morning to you."

"Ha. Fantastic."

* * *

_"Can't sleep?"_

_James only raised his head to acknowledge Jeanne's presence, but didn't feel obliged to turn his head all the way around to properly look at her. His eyes remained trained on the baluster opposite of the one he was leaning against, the bottle of firewhiskey his hand gripped long devoid of its contents._

_"I'll be along in a bit," he answered, expecting her to go back in. He wasn't in the mood to talk, not really, and his mildly firewhiskey-soaked brain didn't feel very much inclined either._

_He was a little startled when she sat beside him, her feet dangling over the edge of the lakehouse's viewing deck. "D'you mind?" she asked him softly._

_He shook his head. "What's up?"_

_"Liam."_

_"Oh." He didn't know what else to say to that, to be honest. Admittedly, a conference about feelings and relationships was the last thing on his mind, especially one held with a bird (and with _Jeanne_), but he didn't want to sound rude by making blatantly unenthusiastic remarks. "Er, how are you holding up?"_

_She turned to look at him, both her eyebrows raised, but said nothing._

_"What?" James asked uncomfortably._

_She just stared at him for a moment, before returning her gaze towards the dark lake and chuckling. "Don't worry, James. I'm not going to force you to talk about it. You just asked and I answered, s'all."_

_He heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin then. I was already debating on which exit strategy would work best on you."_

_She rolled her eyes at that. "So did you and Lily fix that thing? Whatever it was?"_

When do we ever? _"She's a nutter."**  
**_

_"You're smitten with the nutter."_

_It took James a while to reply, and he wished he could take another swig from the bottle as an excuse. He knew what his silence might mean, that he might as well have answered with a yes, I still very much am and that _sucks_, but he chose to remain mum for a considerable amount of time anyway._

_"It's okay, Potter," Jeanne was saying, but he knew it wasn't._

_It just wasn't._

_"I'm trying not to be anymore."_

_"Trying not to be okay?"_

_He dragged his eyes up to her and mustered a half-hearted smirk. "No. Smitten with the nutter."_

* * *

The door closed with a resounding thud, and a collective groan echoed from the living room. Jeanne and Lily barely heard Sirius cursing at the noise before James made an appearance in the kitchen. He has his broom slung on one shoulder, which he dropped on the table ("Bloody fucking _hell_, you sods," growled Sirius), and his hair was even more of a perpetual mess than ever. His cheeks were pink and his forehead sweaty. He sat on a counter stool across Jeanne and Lily.

"Oh, good. Breakfast."

"Where were you?" demanded Lily.

"Out." He habitually ran his fingers through his hair. His hand didn't come back down as he fisted his jet black locks, his eyes closing tight and blinking.

"You're knackered," Lily observed. Jeanne made a face at James, and wordlessly pushed her breakfast towards him.

"I _would_ know, yeah," said James cheekily, taking the plate. She turned to Jeanne. "Cheers, Marchbanks."

"Where have you been?" asked Jeanne, and this time the wizard answered.

"Flew a bit," he muttered between huge bites of toast. "I couldn't sleep."

Lily laid down a cup of coffee for him and sighed. "You're mental."

James put down his fork, looked up, and winked at her. "Doesn't it just _draw_ you, Evans?"

The redhead allowed him a quick sardonic smile, before frowning at Jeanne, pointing at the food James was rather rapidly wolfing down. "That was your thank-you gift!"

Jeanne chuckled. "Yes, well, I was only awake and around to cover you up because _he_ was being inconsiderately loud in the middle of the night."

"Oi!" protested James, brandishing his fork in front of Jeanne. "I closed that door as quietly as I could!"

"It woke me up, didn't it?"

"That's not my fault."

"I suppose it isn't," she conceded, sighing. Her eyes traveled to Sirius, who was knocked out once again, it seemed. "It was a bit of a restless night, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," said James, stealing a lingering glance at Lily when he thought neither of the girls were looking. "A bit."

* * *

_"I can help you with that, you know," Jeanne said at length, almost reluctantly._

_James eyed her curiously. Jeanne Marchbanks never said anything _reluctantly_, and he wasn't quite sure what she was trying to tell him. "What?"_

_"I can help you," Jeanne pressed on. "I can help you forget her."_

_James raised his eyebrows, partly intrigued, setting down the empty bottle he'd been nursing. "How exactly are you going to do that?"_

_"Well..." she began, and he noticed her fiddling with her fingers. James was perfectly aware he didn't know Jeanne much—they were two people who had belonged in the same circle of friends for a considerable amount of time, sure, but they weren't legitimate mates when on their own—but even he thought this was rather uncharacteristic of her. "I know this will sound weird and out of place and... it's _ridiculous_... but you're a decent bloke, Potter, and after Liam... I mean, I think we'd all agree that I need to meet and be with more decent blokes."_

_James didn't know much of the matter to agree or disagree, to be honest, but he kept his mouth shut._

_"I know I'm not _her_..."_

_Not... wait—wait, _what_?_

_"But I can _try_." She sounded nervous, but plenty determined. "I think it would be good for the both of us."_

_It took longer than it probably should have, but James caught on. He wasn't eager to go into specifics, however, and he wasn't sure if he was indifferent or ridiculed or appreciative of this proposal(?) just yet. He didn't think he had the energy to decide then either. Or if recollection of this in the morning would even be possible._

_"I suppose," he muttered, in what felt like too long a time for anyone to consider and supply an appropriate answer._

_She didn't comment back._

_They spent the rest of the night out in silence, watching the water ripple in the porch light and the stars twinkle obliviously above the dark silhouette of pine thickets far, far across the lake. They said nothing more but murmured goodbyes when Jeanne got up and decided to go back inside the house._

_Well, except for—_

_"Hey, Jeanne?"_

_Jeanne turned around to face him, her hand already on the knob._

_"Throw a blanket over Evans, will you?" Somehow, he hadn't felt comfortable doing it earlier with Sirius around. "She doesn't like sleeping without one."_

_"But it's not that cold..."_

_The wizard shrugged. "She's just weird like that."_

_Jeanne regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Alright," she said. "Good night, James."_

_"Night."_

_And then he went to do the second thing he loved the most, because he knew he damn well wouldn't be able to go to sleep with thoughts of the first tirelessly running around his head._

* * *

**AN:** So there's that. Next word is _snowflake. _See you one of these Fridays.


	4. Snowflake

** AN:** It's Friday here, but happy Fourth of July, USA! Erm, also, so apparently I am a fan of wonkitated timelines. _Last Dance_ was in two reversed timelines, _The Way I Loved You_ had flashbacks in the wrong order, and _Restless, _the previous chapter, was as wonky. I hope no one gets too confused with any of them.

Here's _Snowflake. _A warning for some of the content, I guess. Happy reading x

**Four: Snowflake**

_"How on earth do you undo a first kiss?"_

**_Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, winter of '75_**

_Her eyes were green._

_Her hair was red._

_Her cheeks were showered with freckles and her skin burned hot and smooth beneath his fingers._

_When he kissed her, it felt like winning. For once._

* * *

**_The Pettigrew family cottage, a little away from the lake house, summer of '77_**

"Do you want to come inside?" asked Peter apprehensively, pausing by the doorstep of the small cottage. Jeanne and Sirius stood on the topmost step of the porch stairs, and their assertive gazes sweeping over the unfamiliar grounds made Peter a little self-conscious.

"I smell cookies," noted Sirius.

"No, you go on, Pete. We'll wait here," said Jeanne, sensing Peter's discomfort at having to let them in. He probably didn't feel very comfortable at having witnesses to getting scolded—and he _would_ get a reprimand or two, Jeanne was certain, before they all got what they needed from there.

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but she quelled his protests with a telling look. Thankfully, he caught on. "Fine. You go on, Wormtail."

Jeanne could have sworn she saw Peter's shoulders sag in relief. "I won't be long," he muttered, before he disappeared inside.

Soon enough, a barely audible, aggravated female voice was asking from inside: "You need help for what?"

Sirius snorted. Jeanne, however, in both a desire to block the noise out and to utilize wisely her time alone with Sirius, ignored Sirius's short-lived chuckle and murmured comments.

"I have to talk to you," she spoke clearly over the increasing din of noise from behind the front screen door. ("You did _what_?")

"About?" ("What do you mean it's _snowing_ in the lake house?")

"Well," she said, eyeing the Marauder carefully. "I need help with your best mate." (How can _anyone_ with their mind intact, Peter, ever manage to conceive for themselves such a problem?)

* * *

**_The lake house living room, summer '77_**

"I didn't kiss him because of James," insisted Lily for the thousandth time, her eyes scanning the page before her. She clutched her cardigan tighter and Mary laughed from somewhere to her right. "And there's nothing here..."

She closed the unhelpful Charms volume with a sigh and tossed it towards a growing pile by her feet, the one on top already covered with a thin layer of snow. It would be easy to fix the wet books later with a drying spell. Right now, Lily and Mary's priority was to find a spell that would undo Peter's unintentional charm of making it snow on the lake house's entire first floor—an attempt, incidentally, at fixing the place's ventilation after incessant complaints from Sirius about the heat.

"You didn't even like him," said Mary, flipping through a book of her own. She paused to direct her wand towards the ceiling and mutter a spell, but nothing happened. She irritably ran her fingers through her hair to rid it of gathering flakes. "I'm going to murder Peter," she swore under her breath.

"Technically it's Sirius's fault," said Lily, placing another book on her lap. "And oi, I did sort of... _notice_ him. He was a Quidditch player."

"You don't know any of the other House team players, Lily."

"Well, I knew Ravenclaw's Terrence Hunter," Lily maintained, turning to page one. "He was nice. He had nice cheekbones. Nice... broom."

Mary lowered the book down, her eyebrows shooting up. "A_ nice broom_."

"Oh, come off it, Macdonald," said Lily. "He did. It was a normal-looking broom."

Mary laughed. "Not that I'm sure which broom we're talking about here—" she received a handful of snowflakes down her front for that, "—but if you must know, Dorcas kept rambling about how Terrence's nice broom—the literal one, at least—" Lily rolled her eyes at her, "—brought the entire Ravenclaw team down on that one match against Slytherin."

"Oh, I'm sure there were other factors."

"Well, Dorcas was pretty convinced. And you know her. When she's convinced about something, it's usually right," said Mary. "That aside, though, for all the charm you insist that that boy ever possessed, why then can't you describe him with anything more than just 'nice'?"

"Because he _is_ nice." Lily scowled. "It's a perfectly acceptable adjective."

"You come up with the most ridiculous adjectives for James Potter alone," Mary pointed out. "Sometimes I even doubt they actually exist."

"'James Potter alone' annoys me most of the time."

"You mean he _excites_ you most of the time," Mary corrected. "Because Hunter was as dull as his broom from the Stone Age."

"I did not kiss him because of James!" said Lily again. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because Peter's soddin' summer snowfall forcibly reminds me of fifth year winter, Lil, and the fact that your first real kiss shouldn't have been Terrence bloody Hunter," answered Mary.

"You're supposed to be supportive about my life choices," the other sulked.

"I'm supposed to ensure that you get what you deserve, Evans," said Mary. "Because I know first-hand that you work hard and are brilliant, and you deserve nothing short of topnotch."

Lily smiled, impressed. "Nice save, Macdonald."

"And also to make sure that you learn from your mistakes."

"And there it goes," said Lily, half-sighing, half-chuckling.

* * *

"It's not going to work," said Sirius firmly. "I get what you mean, and it's a generous idea even with the personal motives attached to it—"

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

Sirius huffed. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend like you're not doing it to get over your bleeding git of a boyfriend yourself."

Jeanne looked positively affronted.

"Fine, sorry," Sirius backtracked at once. "But really, it's not going to work."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you won't be the first to try."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he affirmed. "Winter of '75. She got as close to Prongs as anyone could get, so to speak—and still failed to get as close as that impossible little redhead rascal could."

Jeanne considered this piece of information... and concluded it didn't matter.

She had all summer. Well, most of it. And she really needed the distraction.

"Okay, no," she began. "Let me explain..."

* * *

_He concentrated on her eyes alone, casting himself away in them._

_They were green... but the wrong green._

_Paler green and with scattered specks of blue. They held the wrong shape and possessed the wrong sort of glimmer. The difference in the hue wasn't evident, though, because the flames dancing in the fireplace raged bright and wild in her eyes, making them—making _her_—a monochromatic painting of sorts._

_It didn't matter._

_He leaned in and kissed her. He couldn't help but wonder if Lily's eyes would glow the exact same orange, if her skin would feel as warm. (Would her smile for him ever be devoid of any kind of bitterness?)_

_He let his hands wander and he let her hands wander and he tried, oh did he try, not to let his thoughts stray as far as their fingers did. He failed._

_His fingers entangled themselves in her hair as he lowered his lips to her neck, losing himself in the tide of frustration._

_He heard her sighs. He felt her touch. But all he could still see, damn it all to hell, was how Stella May Lee's brown hair burned dark red against the light of the flames._

_She was going to be his first, there was no turning back, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was going to regret this later._

* * *

"So how on earth do you undo a first kiss?"

Mary tried another spell before answering, reduced to sighing heavily when it proved futile. "That's the point. You can't," she said in reply to Lily's query. "But you can at least own up to the error committed and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Of course it won't happen again. You only have a first kiss once."

Mary glared at her. "A mistake of more or less the same nature may be committed again! There are a lot of firsts in life that you can't just throw away to prove a point."

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be moronic enough to throw away any of those other coming firsts just to make a point, Mary. _Any _point. But right. What's the error I have to own up to?"

"That you kissed Terrence Hunter, Lily, just mostly because you thought it would aggravate James the most!" Mary explained almost sanctimoniously. "And—alright, to be fair—Potter was being an utter and immature git then, and he was always inconceivably insensitive about that whole thing with you and himself and—and—you know..."

"Severus?" Lily supplied, unsure if she was amused or perplexed that her best mate still thought it inappropriate to mention her ex-best mate from Slytherin.

"Yes, that bugger... anyway, you wasted your first kiss on some inane attempt to get an _equally_ inane point across."

"Maybe Terrence was a good snog and I actually had a good time," Lily defended.

"Was he? Did you? In all honesty?"

Lily bit her lip and was suddenly occupied with the book again. "He was alright..."

Mary shook her head. And then, startling Lily, she stopped rather abruptly and exclaimed a pleased, excited "Ha!". She picked up an average-sized book from the floor. It was one of the last remaining books they had yet to check out. She flipped the pages enthusiastically, brightening up when she got to the desired section.

"Thank Merlin," said Lily, walking over to Mary, who finally looked like she had found a spell to counter Peter's mistake. "Do you think Peter's mum would be dismayed to have come here for nothing?"

"I think Sirius would be dismayed to have gone there for nothing." Mary muttered a spell and flicked her wand, her eyes narrowed at the page in concentration.

There was a faint whoosh, and then winter in the lake house finally ceased. Well, except—

"You have _got_ to be joking, Macdonald," said Lily in a low voice. A silver cloud remained hovering above her head, and it followed her dutifully when she stepped forward. "Give me that book."

"Nope." Mary raised the book above her head and jumped over and behind the couch. "Admit it first."

"Admit what?" said a voice from the front door, and both girls turned to see that Remus had arrived. He took one look at Lily and smirked. The redhead narrowed her eyes at him. "Hullo, Lily," said Remus. "James still asleep?"

"No one cares," snapped Lily.

Remus laughed. He put down a number of brown paper bags on the coffee table. They contained a variety of biscuits and crisps and magazines and alcohol and—

"Is that a Gobstones set?" asked Mary, handing the book to Remus and examining the goods.

"No one _cares_." Lily glared at her friends. "Mary!"

"Gobstones, yes—what's with the cold shoulder, Lily?"

"Good one," remarked Mary. Remus grinned. He held the book against his chest and bowed, checking out its pages upon straightening up. Mary turned to Lily, who was silently fuming. "Now, I believe you had something to say?"

"I did _not_ kiss Terrence Hunter because of James."

"She still hasn't admitted that one?" asked Remus, sorting the couch with a quick drying spell and sitting down.

Mary shook her head. "She's as stubborn as a mandrake."

"He and she both."

"I'm going to catch a cold and it will be your fault!"

"Just admit it and I'll finally have closure," said Mary. "It really does bother me, you see."

"Terrence Hunter. _Honestly_..." said Remus.

Lily's gaze traveled from Mary to Remus and back again. Neither seemed willing to relent soon.

She sighed.

* * *

"So do we have a deal?" Jeanne was asking Sirius later. She held out a hand. The voices from inside the house were dying down, and it was only a matter of time before Peter came back out.

Sirius regarded Jeanne for a second, and she honestly couldn't tell what his half-formed smile meant. But then his lips quirked upwards in an all-out crooked grin, and he grasped Jeanne's hand and shook it once.

"Prongs is going to kill me, Marchbanks," he said. "You better deliver."

* * *

"Fine," said Lily. She thought it was about time she admitted it to herself anyway. Mary was right, of course—she just wasn't delighted at the thought that James, yet again, had indeed influenced such a relevant step in her life. "You're right."

* * *

I'm not doing this because of Lily_, thought James for the thousandth time, his eyes boring onto the girl before her. He shifted himself closer and a pillow fell with a soft thud somewhere to his right. _There's nothing here.

_He was not doing this because he couldn't rid his head of the sight of her lips pressed on that ruddy blighter Terrence. He wasn't here because he couldn't stand the idea of her being with him like that._

_He wasn't getting lost in an echo of Lily right here because the real thing remained frustratingly persistent to keep out of his reach. He wasn't deluding himself with the hair and the eyes and the skin and the lips, all so, _so_ wrong, but willing, for him and for here and for now. He wasn't touching and kissing and holding Stella because he felt lost, so lost, and he felt so done, and he thought he wanted to give up but he _couldn't_, and he was just fucking in too deep..._

_His thoughts warped and blazed and weaved themselves into an incoherent garble of spoken and unspoken words, of literal connotations and unbearably saccharine sentiments. While he hoped he wouldn't utter the wrong name—bloody fucking hell, the whole thing was just laughable—another single, thankfully consistent thought served as the eye of the storm: _I am not doing this because of Lily Evans.

_He's not._

_He was _not_._

_(It's also not the truth, not at all, but for once he claimed for himself the small, twisted sort of victory that the night could afford.)_

* * *

"I only kissed Terrence Hunter because of James Potter."

And then summer was upon everyone once more.

* * *

**AN: **Alright? Bit weird? A lot weird? Thoughts? The next word is _haze. _See you Friday!


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